Final Fantasy VII: Second Account
by Lloyd Redgrave
Summary: Alternate Universe. When someone from a grim future is sent to the past, it brings one question to mind: can the future be changed, or is everything written in stone? Changed the rating to M, just to be safe. Pairings...maybe, but later.
1. A Brief Moment of Insanity

A/N – Okay, this is pretty much the first fanfic I've ever posted, so any advice will be appreciated.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is the property of Squaresoft, and I make no profit whatsoever from this fanfic. Sad, but true.

_**Prologue**_

They hated being on standby. Especially inside of a cramped, metal bunker in quite frankly the middle of a desolate wasteland – not that they weren't familiar with the landscape's appearance. The entire planet looked like that now, even though the Lifestream was still intact – thriving even...but that wasn't what was on these six soldiers' mind right now.

According to Command, there were about three thousand rebels heading their way, and only six squads were sent to hold this "precious" front line. None of them liked the sound of sitting in the middle of nowhere with said rebels acting more like a flood of fanatics than a regiment of troops, but they couldn't do much else about it; for most of them survival was the first thing on their minds, but it was also considered next to impossible for any normal person to hold a front line against three thousand specially trained people.

And that's why the six in this metal box were here: to level the playing field.

So far it had been well over four hours: no little black blots on the horizon, and only one of the squad members had succumbed to boredom; he was currently standing with his back leaning against the wall, reminiscing on what exactly he had done to get this far: every mission and all of his training played through his mind like a movie reel, and he slowly closed his eyes. Maybe he would actually get a little sleep before...

"Open fire!" The immediate shouting and artillery fire snapped Rollin out of the light daze that had begun to envelop him.

'_The rebels must've finally started the assault on our fortified position,'_ he thought, assessing the situation in the bunker: Michael manned the turret to his right; Jack was firing off rounds with his submachine gun, holding down the trigger with a death grip even whilst reloading; Angela and Drammer picked off the more heavily armored targets with sniper rifles; and Lloyd launched the few remaining anti-tank missiles left, hoping they would connect with one of the many behemoths ahead. The BattleNet Comm. was awry with chatter, but eventually filtered out any noise not coming from the higher-ups.

"Listen up everyone:" Commander Saura ordered over the comm., "hold your position until I give the order to fall back to HQ. Understood?" She received multiple acknowledgments all at once. Rollin scoffed at the commander's order; he knew that she didn't give a rat's ass whether they all lived through this, so long as the result was victory.

He also knew about her morbid fear of being on the battlefield personally, which gave her the freedom of staying on a gigantic battlecruiser, far above the chaos, directing her little pawns to their deaths. '_She can stay up there for all I care.'_

"You heard the lady: we're staying!" Michael shouted over the second artillery barrage, quickly taking control of the squad's situation, "Rollin: get on that turret, NOW!" Rollin nodded and dashed to the other turret as the enemy line (more like a flood) sped up to compensate. He held his finger on the trigger, not letting up for what felt like days, though the wave of troops seemed to move faster, not letting up at all. Suddenly, the commander's voice rang in his earpiece:

"Fall back! I repeat: fall back!"

Angela pulled the titanium door open violently and ran, leaving her now empty rifle behind on the floor. Seeing this, Michael held the door open and motioned everyone else out, exiting last. Jack whistled over the group's private channel.

"Damn, that's a ways off." He commented, keeping pace at a half-run, half-jog ('_Always pointing out the obvious, aren't you?'_). Drammer rolled his eyes.

"Best start running then." He replied, sprinting faster than most normal people could, thanks to the battle armor they wore. Jack laughed, and ran to catch up. Michael and Rollin followed after them, hoping that Angela wasn't too far ahead of them already. As they ran, they took the opportunity to take as many rebels out as they could with the limited amount of bullets each squad member had. Unfortunately, that ammunition didn't last too long, leaving them no choice but to get rid of their weapons and focus on the long sprint. Angela began to slow down to a halt and stared up at the sky–whenever she stopped what she was doing, it meant only one thing:

Something was wrong…horribly wrong.

Michael shot a glance upwards as well, and his jaw dropped at the sight: a tactical nuke. For those of you who don't know how tactical nukes are designed, they are meant to explode in mid-air, pushing down on anything below it with extreme force. In basic terms, it's a giant hammer of force with minor radiation to boot (as opposed to a regular nuke, which hits the ground, then explodes outward [with more radiation). Michael yelled for everyone to get down on the ground. Merely seconds later, it detonated (dangerously close to them, mind you), flattening everything under it as if a giant fist of pure energy came down on their heads. The squad, however, was only shaken up in the safety of their battle armor. Rollin looked up, and saw the carnage before him firsthand.

He woke up in a cold sweat, eyes now wide with fear.

Trying to calm himself, he looked around the room he occupied. '_Nothing like the battlefield I saw before,'_ Rollin thought to himself, slightly relaxing. He sat himself up on the quaint bed's edge, half expecting someone with a gun to bash the door in and start taking shots at him. He shook his head at the thought. '_Just a dream.'_ He took his time waking up completely, though he doubted that it was all in the past now. The scent of breakfast caught his attention, taking his mind off of everything else for the moment – his dreams could wait until he had a full stomach.

A/N – Well, there's the prologue...oh, and see that little blue rectangular button on the bottom left of the screen? Apparently it's good to use it – maybe write a review, some advice, or even a flame or two (depending on the story) – so have at it.

Until the next chapter (hopefully),

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	2. A Glimpse Into Normality

A/N – Hmm...no reviews...ah, I'll give it a go and see if it helps at all.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is the property of Squaresoft, but Rollin and his squad are mine!

_**Chapter 1**_

"So, what do you think?" the woman asked. Rollin swallowed the food still in his mouth to give an answer.

"As always, you're the best cook I've seen, Sis." He replied, giving thumbs up in the process, though it wasn't necessary. His sister smiled slightly, filling up a plate of her own. It may have seemed odd to anyone new to the small town of Haven that there were a brother and sister that didn't actually have much of a sibling rivalry. As a matter of fact, they were the only members left of their extensive family after The Great War – their parents were claimed by an unknown parasite, and their other siblings signed up for military duty (including Rollin). Out of the six children that joined (Cody, Zach, Andre, Marle, Emily, and Rollin from oldest to youngest), only Rollin came back from the chaos caused by the rebels on the now economically isolated planet of Cyphus. That left the two youngest, Tony and Megan, at the house. When he came back, only Megan was left there; Tony was infected by the same parasite that took their parents, and died. Of course, there were others who suffered likewise fates (infection, war casualties, and the like), but not so much as they did.

All they had left were each other.

Rollin remembered two of the last casualties in his tightly knit group of siblings: Cody and Marle, the two he was closest to. They both served in the same squad as he did, and fought as if they were experts on the battlefield; however, they were both caught in the blast radius of a grenade. Cody was lucky and died instantly. Marle didn't have such luck, losing an arm and suffering from multiple cuts from the shrapnel that was still lodged inside her entire body. He was the one who carried her back to the infirmary, and watched her die slowly. He still couldn't get the image out of his head. He was only fourteen.

It's been six years since then.

"Hello? Gaia to Rollin: you still there?" Megan asked, trying to get his attention. He snapped out of it, recovering from the blank stare he donned previously. She continued, "Michael called while you were asleep." Rollin sat up a bit straighter hearing this.

"What did he want?" He asked her, getting a shrug in reply.

"He wanted you to meet him at the hangar." His brow furrowed in concentration.

"When?"

"Whenever you can." Came the reply. His brow became more furrowed.

"How did he say it?" Yet again, the shrugging of the shoulders.

"He was kind of quiet about it." She answered, and Rollin chuckled; he remembered what it meant when Michael said that in a quiet tone of voice: it meant, "Right friggin' now." Slowly, he stood up, and walked over to the coat hanger, grabbing his only jacket.

"I better head out then." He said, opening the door. As he walked out, Megan stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Bro?" she said questioningly, giving him puppy eyes as he turned around. '_Oh boy, the puppy eyes.'_ He thought to himself.

"Yeah?" he tilted his head slightly (for him, that's "I need some answers" in body language), as she quickly embraced him as if he was her father. '_She's going to be a heart breaker, that's for sure.'_

"Be careful." Hearing this made him chuckle quietly.

"Don't worry." He sat down on his bike – nothing special or flashy; just something to get from point A to B in one piece, "I'll be back by dinner hopefully, and I'm buying this time." Starting the engine, he sped off for the only hangar in the entire city. The only thing he didn't know about was what Michael called him for.

And that he wouldn't be coming back home this time.

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A/N – okay, not as much content this time around, but hey...what can ya do? Another chapter might be on the way, but it depends...school and all. Read and review please!

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	3. The Plan

A/N – Still no reviews, but the number of hits went up; that'll do for now, I suppose.

Disclaimer: You guys should know the drill by now: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...but I do own Cyphus and it's inhabitants.

_**Chapter 2**_

The wind was causing Rollin's jet-black hair to flail in all directions, though he didn't mind: he always drove without a helmet, ever since he knew how to drive. That's one advantage of being in the military…driving damn near any and every vehicle becomes almost second nature, which only left room for fighting at the top of the list. If it wasn't for the military's bright idea to pay their soldiers during times of peace, Megan and he would probably be scraping the bottom of their personal bank accounts just to survive.

That and he wouldn't have his bike.

As he neared the checkpoint for the Haven Planetary Defenses Headquarters (HPD for short), he wondered whether this was just a social call or a job, and why Michael wanted him to come here in the first place. Was he the only one that was going to be there? And if not, then who else would be?

He came to a stop at the booth, pulling out his key card. The bored security guard took the card and swiped it over the bar code scanner. Seeing who it was via the computer screen, she immediately perked up and snapped a crisp salute.

"Good to see you back, Sir!" she said, opening the gates with the press of a button, "Lieutenant Lochs is waiting for you." Rollin nodded, pulling into the military base. The only reason she was so exuberant was because of his rank. He never really understood how exactly he became a sergeant 2nd class so quickly; now that he thought about it, the time it took to get there was only a few battles that had gone badly but still in their favor. '_If I was a corporal, that would make more sense to me, but a sergeant?'_ He pondered, hoping for his mind to have an answer, but drawing up a blank, '_Forget it…I'm already at the hangar.'_

Parking his trusty motorcycle, he walked over to where a lone man stood. He wore the standard issue army fatigues, though his bore the shoulder patch of a lieutenant. His long dark gray hair was tied into a ponytail to keep all of it out of his face (save for the few strands that he could never seem to get), allowing the normal use of the icy green eyes he was born with. Aside from battle experience, those eyes were a major reason he got to where he was now, since most of the people that promoted him were women.

The stereotypical ladies' man.

"Long time no see, Michael." Rollin stated, watching a small grin appear on his face.

"So, did my favorite soldier get his beauty sleep?" Michael joked. Whenever he joked, you could speak freely (an odd little quirk in his personality, but useful to know). He opened the door that led inside, "Hurry up…everyone else is here." Rollin followed him inside, and saw four other people inside.

The first was a man with brown hair – almost auburn – who was busy making the final adjustments to his C-32 semiautomatic canister rifle with a small screwdriver. Another man – an albino, to be specific – was laying down on one of the tables while reading through some papers he had picked up at the labs, with two fairly simplistic daggers strapped to his sides. The third man had chocolate brown hair that stopped just below his eyes, and was leaning against the wall on the left with his arms crossed while holding a sheathed katana firmly in his grip. Finally, the only woman in the group was sitting in one of the chairs at the nearest table, her long dishwater blonde hair covering her eyes as she broke the C-29t01 sniper rifle down and put it back together fluidly.

Drammer, Lloyd, Jack, and Angela...in that order.

'_So everyone else __is__ here.'_ He thought to himself. Angela was the first to look up and smiled brightly. Running to where he stood, she hugged him tightly.

"Hey Angie." He remarked, caught a bit off guard by this – he normally wouldn't have been, since they did try out dating at one time. Of course, the matter of long distance didn't really help at all; nonetheless, it was fun while it lasted. She ruffled his hair, as a sort of greeting.

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Angela whispered into his ear, causing a shiver to make its way down his spine.

'_Yeah…it has.'_ He pondered, not realizing that he had said the same thing out loud. She laughed softly. God, he missed that. Naturally, that broke his original train of thought regarding what this meeting was all about. Michael snapped his fingers in front of Rollin's face, bringing him back to the situation at hand.

"I'm guessing that you all want to know why you're here. Am I right?" he asked his former squad, receiving nods from each person. Lloyd tilted his head in query.

"Don't tell me that we're going to work for the government again." He groaned, and Michael shook his head. Lloyd always had something against the government in question, whether it was secret experimentation, or large-scale disinformation, or whatever his next big worry was about.

"Nothing of the sort; this one is about my own suspicions." He took out the blueprints to an underground facility, laying it out on the table in front of him, "We have to find this place – basic infiltration, as we have all dealt with in the past. However…" he stopped and Drammer spoke up.

"However…what?" he questioned, getting straight to the point as he did on any normal day.

"It's on Gaia. Don't worry," Michael commented, holding his hand up as Lloyd started to say something about lack of transportation, "I've made arrangements for a transport to where we need to go."

"How so?" Rollin asked, getting a chuckle in return from his superior.

"It's quite simple, really: we 'liberate' one of the ships here for our use. It'll probably be seen as treason, I know, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem…" reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a white orb, "especially with this." Everyone gazed at the globe in awe; it was materia – an extremely rare yet natural occurrence, created when the contents from under Cyphus' crust break through and form a pool. It takes thousands of years for something like materia to form, but the result is both beautiful and, at the same time, can be very destructive – mainly because of the knowledge inside of it.

"Materia?" Angela wondered, pulling her gaze away from the object, "You're planning on bargaining with them?" Michael grinned mischievously.

"Not just any materia, mind you." He retorted, holding it up like a trophy, "This little gem is one of a kind; Rollin knows exactly what I mean." Rollin's eyes widened at the realization of what he meant.

This was the only white materia in existence: Holy.

'_It makes sense that he would treat it like he is right now.'_ He contemplated, '_After all, it did help save Gaia before…but that was ages ago.'_ Finally, he voiced his idea.

"You'll use Holy to get us a safe return." He concluded, a nod of approval coming from the lieutenant.

"So let me get this straight:" Jack started, "We steal a spaceship from one of these hangars, head for a planet-wide wasteland in search of an underground facility that might not even be there anymore, and with absolutely no clue as to what is inside, on top of that. And after this is all over with – if we even survive it – we use that glowing marble to get us a safe trip home and some R&R. Did I get it all?" yet again, another nod from Michael.

"That's the gist of it, yes." Jack rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"I like these odds; let's get to work!"

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A/N – Reviews are gold! Tell me what you guys think: too short, too long, not enough detail...anything helps. :)

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	4. A Grim Fate

A/N – Hmm...two chapters in one sitting...the things that happen when you're bored and home alone.

Disclaimer: You guys should know the drill by now: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...but I do own Cyphus and it's inhabitants.

_**Chapter 3**_

The squad quickly filtered out of the expansive hangar, and Michael stopped Rollin just before he stepped through the double doors that led to the other more advanced hangars. He held out two customized pistols: one had the barrel set behind the grip a few inches along with a clip separate from the grip that stuck out to the side a little bit, giving it a bullpup look as well as greater accuracy. The other gun looked much like a regular pistol, but the sights were filed down and the clip held much more ammunition than a regular pistol.

Rollin's only weapons, self-made and improved.

"I thought you might need these." Michael noted with a shrug, and the sergeant holstered the guns with a nod of thanks.

They finally reached one of the only hangars with a shuttle still inside, and hid behind some of the supply crates once they saw that there were three guards standing watch in front of the loading bay. Sneaking a glance around the edge of a crate, Jack looked back at the lieutenant.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked quietly as Michael rubbed his chin. A grin started to form soon afterward.

"Wait for the roof to open up, then knock out the guards and get the pilot out of there." he planned, and the other five nodded before the grinding of gears and the hissing of hydraulics filled their ears, the ceiling splitting apart and revealing the twilight sky above them. Without a word the six soldiers moved to take down the guards, Michael and Rollin making a break for the loading bay as Jack, Lloyd, and Drammer knocked out the three army grunts quickly. Angela stopped just inside of the space shuttle, her hand hovering over the controls to the bay doors as Michael stepped into the cockpit, dragging out a bewildered pilot and tossed him away from the ship. The sniper pushed on the control panel once everyone was inside and watched the door swing upward.

"Sorry, but we need this more than you guys!" she apologized with a wave before the door locked into place. Rollin walked briskly into the cockpit, only to find Drammer – now garbed in a gravity suit – in the pilot's former spot before the shuttle began to ascend, barely passing through the open ceiling just as it started to close and speeding off past Cyphus' atmosphere. The ship shuddered for a brief time, then everything was eerily still. Drammer pointed to the supply lockers in the back with his thumb absently.

"Okay, grab a gravity suit: I'm starting up the subspace generator soon." he ordered as everyone grabbed a one-size-fits-all suit and stepped into them, making sure that they were properly sealed before sitting down on the two benches on the sides of the ship and strapping down; they all had gone through subspace training, and the teleportation-esque sensation had made each and every one of the battle hardened soldiers act as if under the influence of motion sickness, only hundreds of times worse. They were sort of used to it now, however. "Everyone ready?" Drammer's voice spoke via the speaker in the upper right corner of the room and everyone nodded, "Right; activating the subspace generator...now."

They all felt the forces of gravity increase greatly as the ship slipped into the wormhole it had created, and the feeling of being stretched out like a rubber band gripped everyone on board as the shuttle was whisked away. As they went through subspace, it was rather quiet, even with Jack on board; being the jabber mouth of the group, this was very rare to have complete silence for longer than five minutes…except when he fell asleep. Even then, he would talk in his sleep (as if he didn't talk enough every waking moment of the day). With this being one of those rare opportunities, everyone tried to sleep for a short yet necessary change of pace.

Everyone except for Angela, Michael and Rollin.

Rollin was just fine; he just wasn't tired as of yet. Angela, however, was restless. Hell, you would be too if it had been five years since you last did something like this…save for the whole hijacking bit. She silently spun her perfectly balanced combat knife, tossing it in the air and catching it with relative ease: one of the many signs in her unique body language that showed restlessness and a hint of nervousness. Of course, she had plenty to worry about on her own; she had two brothers in comatose ever since they were infected by the parasite.

Michael had no choice – he was driving…for now.

The door to the helm opened up, and he walked out. Stopping next to Drammer, he woke him up and pointed him towards the room he had just exited. Drammer nodded slowly, getting the message: it was his shift on driving. As he went into the cramped space required for any space-faring ship, the lieutenant sat down for a bit before breaking the silence.

"So Rollin," he began to ask, closing his eyes in contemplation, "have you ever heard of the Ancients?" Rollin looked over at him questioningly.

"The Ancients?" Michael nodded, allowing him to elaborate on the question, "The inhabitants of Gaia before the planet was nuked?" he chuckled to himself.

"Let me rephrase that; the Cetra." Rollin shook his head, not recognizing the name; it was almost a very odd phenomenon whenever he didn't know about a certain point in history. As a matter of fact, he was pretty much a walking history book with a personality – he even knew of events that most teachers don't even know of. Michael continued on, "The Cetra were a race of nomads, in basic terms: they would find planets, populate, then move on. It was said that they had some sort of connection with the planets that they inhabited…not so much physically as it was telepathically." The sergeant scratched his scalp in thought.

"You mean that they could talk with the planet?" he asked, sort of confused.

"In a way, yes. By the time the human race was rising to domination, they were nearly wiped out, save for a few; no one knows what caused them to become part of the almost extinct…we just know that they almost did die out." He let Rollin digest this mentally – it was quite a bit to take in for a history lesson, "But this was way before our time – millennia before we even knew of our home world." The younger man was beginning to get the picture, when Drammer popped his head out of the helm.

"We're here." He updated, the rest of the squad waking up at this news. The window on the side of the shuttle was filled with the view of a large planet. Or, rather, what used to be a planet; and not just any planet, either.

This was Gaia.

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A/N – A little bit of a shocker to end the chapter. Again, reviews are gold!

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	5. A History and Science Lesson

A/N – Woohoo! Thanks to libsrevenge for the review; I'll try to add a bit more background to the story, but bear with me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...if I did, then all of my characters would have their own part in the compilation. :)

_**Chapter 4**_

Gaia: what was once the largest (and first) planet to sustain human life in all of mankind's history was now a giant ball of glass floating in the pitch black of outer space; the funny thing is that it was the human race that destroyed it. It's an extremely long and tiresome story, so here's the shortened and simpler version of it: About 1,500 years ago (1,490 years to be exact), a rebel group sprang up on the home world of humans and waged war against anyone who didn't join with them. That period in time was known as The Tragedy, and lasted for ten long years. And out of desperation, the planet's current government at the time ordered something that could be seen as completely insane: a planetary bombardment.

Sadly enough, this plan was carried out by the letter. Twelve Behemoth-class battlecruisers left the already doomed planet's orbit – holding only important figures in the government, mind you – and launched 3,000 high-powered nuclear warheads at the planet's surface; for those of you who think that sounds like enough to destroy the crust, then here's a fact: it was found that only 500 warheads fired at strategic positions would cause enough overall damage to the planet to destroy it. What they did was completely unnecessary and genocidal in nature.

12.2 billion innocent people were killed by the assault, leaving nothing in the ways of civilization, vegetation, or wildlife of any kind standing… just to take out a small group of two hundred genetically enhanced people.

Now looking at the globe of post-nuked glass, Rollin felt sorry for them…and strangely enough, wondered if the government they had worked for wouldn't have hesitated to do the same thing.

He would never know.

As the transport sped ever closer to the planet's surface, everyone checked and double-checked their gear for the trek. They would have to use oxygen tanks and gas masks this time, since combat armor was out of the issue for this mission – half inch humanoid shells used by normal army grunts in battles, armed with recyclable life support and battery packs on the back; the batteries themselves could last up to a week if kept running non-stop, and the reserves usually lasted another two and a half days approximately. Unfortunately for them, there were none on board the ship; it wasn't a problem for them, however.

The spacecraft began to shake due to the turbulence of entering the atmosphere, leaving them with enough time to make sure they left nothing important to the mission behind. Rollin pulled out a locket and opened it up, revealing two pictures: the first was a group photo of his immediate family as of when he was six, and the other a picture of his parents when they were at their prime; it brought him back to the day that he finally realized that his dad would never let him help when he had to finish a job in the workshop, or be able to hear his mom's almost unnaturally beautiful voice, or be able to see the both of them ever again. Snapping himself out of the trance like phase, he latched the locket so it would dangle around his neck loosely; this wasn't the time for him to zone out.

"Heads up, people: forty-five seconds until we're planet-side." Michael noted to the rest of his squad over the intercom, "When we land, we'll be about a kilometer away from the objective. No reason to rush this…got that?" everyone nodded in agreement, and the intercom switched off.

As most soldiers say, battles (or war in general) are filled with long periods of maddening silence and unrest, and short bouts of insanity caused by fighting that can either make or break a person. When a long engagement with the enemy occurs, then a person's resolve is truly put to the test; that single factor can mean the difference between survival and complete annihilation. For them, they were almost always stuck with the long engagements and survived, either miraculously or without even breaking a sweat – never in between those two.

Of course, that just made them stronger…much stronger than any other army grunt, oddly enough.

The platform lowered, letting in what little light could get through the clouds of thick debris that had yet to settle. The squad hurried out of the ship and into the vast wasteland that was once the pinnacle and home of the human race. The radiation had faded and half-lived to a safe level long ago, but they still wanted to be inside the facility in question as quickly as possible – without overexerting themselves in the process. About a kilometer of trekking later, they found a lone cave in a rough chain of mountains.

"I guess this is the place." Lloyd muttered to himself rather loudly, and started towards the dark cavern in front of them. They followed him inside, and as Michael said, there was the door to their objective.

"Now, all we have to do is—" Michael started, but was cut off by the airlock opening on its own, "…never mind." They entered the airlock, and found a foreign sight for anyone who had never seen the world before its destruction.

"Holy shit." Drammer exclaimed slowly, shocked at the sight before him: stasis tubes extending to the other side of the room from wall to wall, leaving a small pathway in the middle of the room for the former residents of this place. Inside the tubes were people – not animals, not alien beings, but human beings no older than they were, floating in a glowing green liquid. Rollin tilted his head inquisitively.

"What are these?" he asked, and Michael shook his head.

"These are SOLDIERs." He answered, and Rollin looked at him, confused, "Mako-enhanced humans; they used to use this technique on their elite fighters, but," he moved closer to one of the tubes and ran his hand down the glass as if trying to contact it, "I thought they had stopped the practice thousands of years ago." The younger man was still somewhat confused at the concept, "Come take a look."

Rollin walked over to one of the other holding tanks that was occupied, and looked for himself: the woman's face was blank and expressionless, had hair down to her elbows, and even though her body wasn't covered in the least bit, he wasn't affected by the sight; he had been around the infirmary long enough to be used to the sight. He leaned in to get a closer look at her face, and the woman's eyes shot wide open. They weren't filled with fear as he expected them to be, but with longing for a much simpler life…not to mention an unnatural glow. Her eyes locked gazes with his.

'_We're alike…you and I.' _he heard resounding in his mind, though her lips weren't moving at all. Was this what Michael was talking about when he spoke of the Cetra?

"Are you…a Cetra?" he asked, not realizing that he said it out loud; he would probably be seen as crazy by everyone else because of it. He saw the lady's eyes flicker a little bit brighter, before giving away to physical unconsciousness again. He slammed his fist against the glass in anger.

"Hey Rollin: don't go crazy on us now." Jack joked, as he was given a glare by the sergeant. As they walked further inside, they found file cabinets in the next room. Angela opened them up, pulling out a file with her name on the tab.

"Strange…why would they have files on us here?" she pondered, pulling out more files and handing them off to their respective owners. Everyone had a file by the time she was through – papers on their enrollment, training, military experience, and the like. However, in Rollin and Michael's folders were papers on classified information: by the looks of it, notes and results on some sort of experiment; no one else had these papers, mind you – just the two.

"Any idea what these are?" Michael asked Rollin, who was already starting to make connections with the information in these pages. Only a few names stood out: the names of important scientists in history mostly comprised it anyway.

"Hmm…" he pondered, still scanning more thoroughly. More names were popping out of the text at him, not to mention the paragraphs on experimental genetic enhancement; that was probably what they were put through. Finally, three names seemed to jump out at him: Jenova, Sephiroth, and Cetra.

Stranger still, the third was used to describe him in an abstract way.

'_Was this what she meant?' _he wondered to himself, not expecting an answer.

"…Not sure." He stated, and continued on to the next room. This room was the largest out of what they had seen, and had only the door that they had used to get in. At the opposite side of the room was a giant half-circle of metal paneling, with a control panel in front of it – a teleporter? Almost trance like, he walked over to the control panel and started flipping switches.

"Wait!" Michael tried to warn him, but was too late; the machine roared to life, shaking the entire room with enough force to start an earthquake outside. The area inside the half-ring opened up into a gargantuan rift, and sucked Rollin into its depths. The chamber began to collapse, and the squad had no choice but to escape.

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A/N – If you are wondering "is the Final Fantasy 7 bit starting anytime soon?" then the answer is yes: this is where it all begins to follow the game's timeline. Reviews are much like cookies to me: they're good...simply put. :)

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	6. A Newish World

A/N – Well, after a week of relaxation I'm ready to crank out more chapters; and just so you readers know, my fight scenes will be fairly detailed – having experience in martial arts myself – so if that's not your thing...well, you know. And yes, that is one of very few blurbs about myself that I will include in my story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...that's Square-Enix's property.

_**Chapter 5**_

He was thrown from the rift that opened up onto the ground. He slowly got up, taking a look at where he was now: it looked like the same cavern he was in before being sucked into that teleporter, except there was no machinery; only a vast cave, compounded with light coming from outside.

At least he knew where the ground was now.

He started for the source of light and, after stumbling around in a damp hole in a mountain, was greeted with the ever-welcome light from the sun; there were no thick columns of dust absorbing the sunlight. There were no giant craters strewn across the landscape, either; just a vast grassland extending to his right, and a rather large pizza-shaped metal city with a tower ascending into the sky – the vegetation becoming sparser as you neared this city. Where the hell was he…or when, for that matter?

'_That tower…that's where I'll find my answers.' _He concluded. Wait, where did that idea come from? It was as if he was being inexplicably drawn towards it. Apparently, his legs agreed with that notion, and he began to head in that direction at a full sprint. It must've been a few kilometers away, though he didn't mind – for some reason he felt stronger than he ever had in the military. From the looks of things, he was faster than ever before, as well. '_No time to think about it…I'm almost there.' _As he neared the fifty foot tall wall with a giant painted '3' facing him, he started to have second thoughts about getting to that tower.

His body, however, was bound and determined to get there.

Grabbing one of the looser portions of the sheet metal, he started to climb the wall at an alarming speed – almost like floating up the wall. '_How am I doing this? I was never this fast before at scaling walls!' _Nonetheless, he continued on, but he didn't expect there to be guards on the upper plate.

Without warning, three of them attacked; the first threw a punch at Rollin, who grabbed the soldier's arm and snapped it at the elbow, and kicked him into one of the other guards. He caught the other guard by surprise with a lightning-fast jab to the face, stunning him. Quickly taking advantage of the situation, he grabbed the man's head and slammed it into his knee and caught him with a solid kick in the chest with the other leg, sending him rolling on the ground and over the edge of the plate.

There must have been a fourth guard that called for backup, because five more guards showed up – three of them lunging at their newest and very deadly threat, leaving the other three guards to stay back. He brought his knee into one of the men, knocking the wind out of him and sending him back a few feet. Two more took his place in the assault, trying to grab hold of Rollin. One got a hold on his right arm and pinned it behind his back; he popped his arm out of its socket, and using the guard behind him for support, flipped over his head and sent a kick to the back of his head, toppling the other guard in front of him; this left Rollin little time to pop his arm back into its socket before he felt the prick of a group of needles in his neck. '_Not good.'_ He thought before collapsing from the fast-working sedative. Everything was blurry, and he was slowly numbing up, although he could still hear someone speaking. He remembered only eight words even through his unconsciousness:

"Welcome to your new home, my little specimen."

The world around him was too blurred to make any sense of, every sound was amplified tenfold – he wasn't exactly sure as to why himself, but it wasn't like he could really do anything about it. It seemed like only a few minutes to him before he was thrown onto the floor...somewhere: again, he wasn't sure, and it didn't help that his body was numbed up from the sedatives. As he lay there unable to move any muscle in his body, he tried to think but found it nearly impossible with that stuffed up feeling in his cranium; he found it much easier to relax, falling into a dreamless slumber and hoping that it was all in his head.

* * *

A/N – ...okay, not as lengthy as some of the others, but bear with me. :)

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	7. Stuck in A Steel Prison

A/N – ...Wow, didn't think this story would last this long. So, here's to almost 300 hits so far and to many more (hopefully)!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...there, I said it.

_**Chapter 6**_

As Rollin came to, the feeling started to return in his hands and feet, slowly creeping up his arms and legs until he could feel everything. Including the cold, metal floor.

'_Ugh…what was that stuff?'_ He thought to himself, trying to get his eyes to focus on the lights in front of him. Realizing that he was still flat on his back, he sat up slowly so he wouldn't become lightheaded. Once his eyes had refocused to the point of actually being able to see, he observed the cell he now occupied. He saw the basic necessities: a bed, sink with a mirror, and toilet. Although, the smell of disinfectant was something he could never get used to, even in his time in the army.

"So you're awake."

He turned his head around sharply looking for who was speaking, his gaze centering on a catlike beast in the corner…well, more of a mix between a lion and a wolf. There were tribal markings branded onto its skin, which were more discernible from the deep red-orange fur. It was blind in one eye (made more obvious by the scar over the eye), but the tail caught the most of his attention: the tip was fiery. '_Did it just…talk?'_ Rollin pondered before speaking up.

"…Either it's just me or the crap those guys gave me has a side effect." He muttered, still somewhat groggy. It chuckled sourly.

"No, that was just a concentrated sedative." The beast replied, getting up as it did, "I can talk just like you or anyone else." Rollin slowly brought himself to his feet, still slightly dizzy.

"I might as well be formal about this, then." He tried walking, which was kind of hard at the moment but doable, towards the bed, "I'm Rollin. You are?" His cell mate started to say something, but paused in hesitation before giving its reply.

"Red XIII." The beast sat down a few feet away from its original spot, as Rollin found a spot on the metal frame bed.

"So Red," he took a second to shake off the rest of the dizziness, "where exactly am I?"

"Right now, we're in the Shin-Ra building above the rest of Midgar. The holding cells on floor 66, to be specific." Red XIII answered.

'_Shin-Ra…Midgar…' _Rollin pondered silently, '_I've heard those names from somewhere…'_ The answer to his thoughts automatically sparked in his mind: the Shin-Ra Electric-Power Company was the company that basically ran Gaia for quite some time, but that was over a couple millennia ago. '_Wouldn't that mean that I'm in the past?'_ His brow furrowed like it always did when he was deep in thought. This was becoming extremely complex, way too quickly. "Then why am I here?" he thought out loud.

"See for yourself." Rollin stood up and moved towards the mirror so he could see what Red was hinting at. The person he saw in the reflection looked almost entirely different than his original self. His face was now adorned with wrinkles, although they were most likely unnoticeable at a distance. The eyes weren't the vibrant green they used to be, but were a dull gray (yes, gray). His once jet-black hair stayed relatively the same, but was streaked with gray hairs as if he had aged 30 or so years. Shocked, he backed up quickly from the reflection and tripped out of the clumsiness that comes with fear. Holding up his hands to block the bright fluorescent lights above him, he saw the true damage done to him.

His left hand has been replaced by a clawed, glimmering silver gauntlet, all the way up to his elbow. The right, however normal it was, was scarred in places that were possibly tendon research marks. Looking further up his arm, there were scars closer to the bicep, though not in the most rational places for research. His eyes widened ever more.

"What the hell did they do to me?" he stammered as panic started to set in. Red tilted his head to the side, as if saying "I thought it was obvious enough."

"Hojo experimented on you, like most of the others on this floor. What he did exactly, I don't know." He looked upward towards a hatch on the ceiling as the hatch opened, allowing half of a clear glass pipe to seal off the part of the room that Rollin occupied, "It looks like he's not done yet." Red said with sorrow in his voice. The floor began to rise, gaining speed, until it stopped at its destination. Rollin was now being watched by a few scientists, including the one that must have been Hojo; he had graying hair pulled back in a ponytail and spectacles that hid his eyes behind the glare from the lights. He smiled a nasty grin, and pressed a button on the panel nearby, opening up the other half of the holding tube.

"Hopefully, we'll get some results from these two." Hojo verbally thought to himself, leaving Rollin and the other 'specimen' alone.

'_It's a…woman?'_ Rollin thought, not really understanding the point in all of this. '_Unless he means for us to…' _ he shook the thought out of his head, '_No. Not for that madman.' _ Slowly, he approached the woman, and sat down.

"Relax…I won't hurt you." He said, "I can't say the same thing about Hojo, however." She opened her eyes to look at him, probably expecting something extensively hideous in nature. Once she saw who was talking to her, she relaxed slightly – he couldn't blame her for being cautious, either.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice still shaking with some fear. He held his regular hand out (if it could be called that).

"Rollin. You?" he replied as she grasped his hand and shook it.

"Aeris." She looked around, trying to see outside of the holding space, "Why are we in here anyway?" he let out a breath that he never knew about holding in.

"Not sure…but whatever it is," he closed his eyes in thought, "I won't let it happen." His eyes opened again, showing the dull gray they had become, "Did Hojo say anything about the Ancients to you, by chance?"

"The Ancients?" Rollin nodded, "Yes. He said that they would lead them to the Promised Land." She answered. He tilted his head to the side.

"…The Promised Land?"

"A place rich in mako energy. Well, that's what they say it is." She smirked, seeing the plan that Shin-Ra had in mind. '_Hmm…a place rich with mako. Where have I heard of that?' _He delved into his memories, and pulled something from a history book; it was brief, but it talked of Shin-Ra's plan of creating the perfect city, without the problem of lacking sufficient energy.

"Neo-Midgar." He concluded, "But I'm guessing you knew about this 'Promised Land' before all of this." She nodded slowly, "Why do you know all of this, then?"

"Because I'm an Ancient." She replied. He heard Hojo re-entering the giant lab and moving close to the tank they were stuck in. He tapped on the glass with his clipboard.

"Anything yet, my little specimens?" he mocked, obviously hoping on a one-night stand. Rollin stood up and moved closer to where Hojo stood with a grin on his face.

"You know, Hojo," he began, clenching his left hand in suppressed anger just waiting to be unleashed, "I never got to thank you for this arm of mine." The scientist was about to say something witty, when Rollin's metal hand broke through the glass and grabbed the man's neck. Slowly he tightened his grip, watching his eyes widen in pure terror. He turned his attention to Aeris, and chuckled, "Maybe we'll meet again someday." Quicker than he thought possible, he forced the rest of his body out of the tube and threw Hojo onto the ground, making a run for the exit. Most of the guards followed him out of the room and through the hallway, hoping to catch their escapee in time. Dashing into the nearest elevator, Rollin pressed the button for the lowest floor, watching the door slide to a close.

Unfortunately, a few tranquilizer darts flew in after him and made contact.

Even worse, they were working faster than the previous ones.

He leaned himself against the back wall of the elevator and sat down heavily, feeling his breathing become more labored as the elevator started to become blurry, and eventually, he blacked out.

* * *

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	8. Following A Trail of Blood

A/N – Sorry I haven't updated in so long (braces for the brick-throwing)...life just loves to throw me a curve ball or two now and then; so, here's the seventh chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...there, I said it.

_**Chapter 7**_

Yet again, he didn't know where he was at all. But unlike last time, he woke up more quickly and alone. Sitting up, Rollin surveyed the area. It wasn't as neatly kept as the other holding cell he had been in before his failed escape attempt, but less cramped to make up for it. 'Maybe I can break out again…' he contemplated, standing up. When he was within arm's length of the metal door, he pulled back with his left arm. Clenching his hand into a fist, he tried to punch through the door; sadly, this idea didn't work like it did with the glass tube. His arm reverberated off of the door from the force, and he reeled in pain. 'Damn! Okay, I guess I'll just wait here.' Sitting back down on the metal bed in the corner, he closed his eyes hoping that he would wake up and that all of this was just a bad dream.

He woke up to the sound of footsteps suddenly, becoming more alert. Were they guards? More prisoners? He couldn't tell; he didn't have x-ray vision like any of the heroes from fiction books. '_But who the hell is out there?' _he wondered. As if on queue, the door to his cell swung open, and a woman was thrown in by a guard. And not just any woman, either. '…_Aeris?'_ Slowly, she got up and brushed her dress off, and saw him as well.

"Rollin?" she said, shocked. He smirked slightly, remembering what he had said.

"Fancy meeting you here," Rollin stated quietly, "but how did you break out?" She told him about being rescued by a person named Cloud, and the fight against one of Hojo's earlier creations, H0512. From the sound of it, the battle was tough, but manageable.

"Afterwards, we went onto the elevator, though the Turks caught us." She sighed, "Now, we're here." Rollin now leaned against the cold wall, taking all of this in; for a relatively short time, that was a lot of information. He could hear movement in the cell to their right.

"Aeris? You in there?" someone asked, looking through a hardly noticeable hole in the wall. The person's eye was a brilliant, glowing blue.

"Yeah, I'm here." She replied, sitting up against the wall. Rollin knew that he wasn't a part of this conversation, so he tuned out as much as humanly possible, his small smile becoming part of a blank, but thoughtful facial expression. His mind began to work on overtime, processing all of what he had heard before. If they were going to be executed, then didn't that mean he would be next in line as well? Or was he an exception to that rule, and was going to be sent back to that crazy bookworm, Hojo? He hated that idea with every fiber of his being…or what was left of his being.

Hours passed, and Rollin dozed off still standing on his two feet.

He opened his eyes, feeling the cold atmosphere setting in – not that the cell was already cold. This chill was much different: only the kind that can move down someone's spine with blinding speed…the kind that gives people that ominous feeling in the air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He heard more footsteps from the cell on his right, continuing out of the cell. '_Maybe a guard taking someone to their death?' _Rollin concluded, though he was quick to judge.

"What the hell?" he heard someone say, and heard more footsteps going back into the cell, "Tifa, wake up!"

"Wha…?" a woman's voice this time. More footsteps sounded throughout the halls.

"Open up the other cells." The man ordered as the door to his cell opened, revealing one of the people in his ever-growing unknown list. He had blonde hair that shot out in multiple directions without any sort of order to which direction, and was now carrying a large sword – it must've been at least his height (not to mention particularly heavy). Rollin took a quick glance at him, and woke up Aeris. She looked over to the person in the doorway, "C'mon, we're leaving." Getting up, she walked out of the room into the hallway, Rollin following closely behind. The chances of him being welcome in this group were slim, but it was worth a shot.

Besides, he wanted to have a 'chat' with Hojo…no, he needed to see him and pay him back in full this time.

The man turned to face him holding his sword out in warning, but Aeris stopped him.

"It's okay Cloud…he's a friend." She commented, smiling in his direction.

'_A friend?'_ Rollin thought, shocked, '…_I'll have to thank her later – that is, if we all survive this.'_ Cloud grunted and walked off in the other direction, following a path of blood. Everyone followed him (the leader-figure from the looks of it) up an elevator and into the president's office. The president of Shin-Ra sat at his desk, as he normally did.

If his idea of normal was with his upper body leaning over the desk, and a nodachi stuck in his back.

"So, the president of Shin-Ra is dead." The other man said with half-relief, half-regret. He must have been in his mid-thirties, and sported a gun-arm on his right arm. Aeris slightly reeled back at the sight.

"Who would do something like this?" she murmured, as Cloud took a closer look at the sword lodged in the corpse's spinal column.

"That sword…its Sephiroth's sword." He concluded. Rollin finally remembered the papers Angela had found in the facility. '_Sephiroth?' _he pondered, '_But isn't he dead?' _The sound of helicopter blades filled the room, and Cloud ran outside to meet whoever was inside of the transport. He tried to follow, but one of the two unknown people held him back – a woman this time.

"Better let him go." She commanded sternly. She turned to everyone else, "Barret: take Aeris and Red downstairs. I'll catch up later." The man with the gun-arm nodded, and led the other two to the elevators. She turned to face Rollin again, who was already descending the staircase, "What about you?" she asked, and he stopped.

"I'll be looking for an armory." He replied, and she tossed him a keycard.

"It's on floor 55, so you might want to use the elevator." He shook his head.

"No need." He walked down the seemingly endless set of stairs, picking up speed rapidly with each step. He thought that his vision would blur at this velocity, but it was clearer than ever; the sharp turns weren't a problem for him, either. Soon enough, the armory was within sight, and he stopped a few feet away from the door. Swiping the keycard, the door slid open and revealed a sight familiar to any former military enlistee (or specimen, for this matter): weapons as far as the eye could see. Rollin walked over to one of the guns hung on the wall, took it off, and examined it; a bit primitive compared to what he used, yes. However, he was willing to use whatever he could get his hands on at the moment. He looked over to his left, and saw the weapons he came here with…and still intact, luckily.

'_Finally – some weapons I'm familiar with.' _He thought, picking them up along with a holster, and stored them for when he found some ammunition. Finding yet another gun on a stand, he inspected it closely: semi/full automatic, forty round magazine capacity limit, and able to use AP rounds. He hung the strap attached to it around his shoulder, and continued his search; he had more than enough in the ways of ranged weaponry, but if anyone got too close for even his pistols to take care of…

His eyes caught the shine that only a blade could give off. Moving closer to the glass case, he broke it open with a quick swipe of his left hand and 'liberated' two of the three objects of cutlery – one was double-edged, and the other had a serrated blade, although shorter in length than the first.

Perfect…now for the bullets.

As he rummaged through the various crates for any sort of projectile he could use, the woman from before walked in.

"Almost done?" she asked, and he pulled out a few small boxes, each containing about one hundred bullets each.

"Almost." He answered solemnly, searching for something to hold the newly acquired blades. Finding what he needed in a storage crate in the back of the room he began his walk down the rest of the stairs, the woman following closely beside him.

"Who are you, anyway?" she gave him a questioning look.

"Rollin." He kept his pace slow enough for her to keep up with him, "What about you?" he extended his left hand (if he could even call it a 'hand') to shake hers.

"Tifa." She slowed to a stop near a vehicle showcase featuring a motorcycle. He took this opportunity to get a look at his new acquaintance: she had deep brown eyes – a hint of red if you looked hard enough – long, dark brown hair, and a good figure. Whether she was no stranger to fighting or not, he had yet to see. He checked around slightly nervously, which was a very new development for him; it was partly the fact that he had never really been charismatic in his opinion, but also the fact that he expected some lab coat lackey of Hojo's would pop up as if out of nowhere and try to put him back into one of those cells – strange how you can become selectively claustrophobic when experimented on by some mad scientist.

And by the looks of his handiwork, he wasn't the first, either.

Tifa looked at him with a somewhat worried look on her face, "You okay?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"If you were worked on in here, you would be a bit paranoid too." Rollin replied, watching Cloud walk down the stairs to where they stood. He could see what the man was heading towards: the same bike that Tifa was leaning on. Sitting down on the seat, Cloud nodded in her direction, and she motioned for Rollin to follow. They boarded the nearby elevator, and let it take them down the rest of the way to their destination.

* * *

A/N – Well, hope you've enjoyed the story so far...reviews are always appreciated!

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	9. High Speed Chase

A/N – Sorry I haven't updated in so long (braces for the brick-throwing...again); hopefully things will become more relaxed within the next few weeks. Anyways, here's chapter eight!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...

_**Chapter 8**_

Rollin was about to ask what the plan was, though he already had a fairly good idea of why Cloud stayed behind with the bike. The revving of an engine only confirmed his suspicions: they were going to ride out of this damned structure. Hopefully, there was another more spacious vehicle downstairs that they could commandeer for the trip. The door to the elevator slid open, and they walked out to join the rest of the group. Tifa pointed to a blue truck, meaning for everyone to get in.

"I'm driving." He commented, opening the door to the driver's seat. Once he was situated, he studied what exactly he was working with: stick shift, key activated ignition – yet again, fairly primitive compared to what he was used to, but that wasn't a problem at all. There was only one very small yet important catch: the keys were missing.

'_Typical.' _He thought to himself wryly and clawed part of the steering column open, searching for the ignition wires. Quickly cutting them, he touched the wires together, causing them to spark and starting the engine. Grinning, he threw the truck into reverse and broke the restraints on the showcase that they were stuck to, then switching it back to drive and using his family's ever-present lead foot. Breaking through the giant glass that separated them from their only way out, the truck broke through the other various barriers set up to stop them from getting out (kind of defeats the purpose of barriers, if you think about it) and thundered down the motorway with Cloud following close behind.

As well as a squad of soldiers on motorcycles.

Barret began to fire on their position with his gun-arm, leaving Cloud to deal with them if they got too close. Rollin wasn't so sure that their luck would last long enough with only two people guarding the vehicle; even though Cloud fought as if he was born fighting on a motorcycle, Barret wasn't as accurate with his shots.

"Tifa, you drive." He ordered, only receiving a nod in reply. Moving with a practiced motion, he grabbed his rifle from out of the back seat, opened the door, and jumped into the very back. The door slammed shut from the speed they were moving at down this highway as Rollin loaded his weapon with a cartridge of high-impact ammunition. He didn't have a whole lot, but it was enough to last through this and hopefully until he could restock. He took aim at the nearest guard and pulled the trigger, putting a bullet right through his chest, knocking him off of the bike and into another guard.

Even though the guards were kept at a relatively safe ways away from the vehicle, it seemed that Shin-Ra wasn't short on replacements as wave after wave of motorcyclists advanced on the ragtag group. As if from nowhere, one of the motorcycles slammed into the side of the truck and caused it to veer to the side, but Tifa managed to keep the vehicle on course; Rollin shot at the bike's tires and heard a loud pop from the rear tire, followed by a shower of sparks. The guard still tried to slam into the truck's side again, but was easily stopped by the butt of Rollin's rifle: the gun was broken now, but Barret's inaccurate shooting covered for him for the moment.

Suddenly, the remaining Shin-Ra guards veered off to different branches of the motorway and disappeared. '_Either they are giving up, or…' _Rollin looked over his shoulder, and found out the grisly truth…

They were running out of road, and fast.

And at the speed this truck was moving at, they probably wouldn't be able to slow down in time. Barret and Red must've figured this out as well, and jumped off with Aeris. Tifa opened the door, climbing into the back with Rollin.

"Hold on." He said as he grabbed onto her, jumping and rolling on the pavement. Part way through the rolling he heard a loud pop and pain lanced through his entire arm, meaning one thing: his shoulder popped out of place again. Eventually, they slowed to a halt a few feet away from the edge of the road, and he surveyed the damage. '_Yep, that was my shoulder…again.' _He pondered, checking his limp right arm with disgust, '_At least she's not hurt…'_

Actually…now that he thought about it, she did look like Megan if not almost exactly: the face looked very familiar feature-wise, and the eyes…the thought of Megan took him away from the physical world, getting him stuck in a forever-looping train of thought; he remembered about his promise that he would come back, that dinner was on him this time – it was funny how he remembered that little part of it…with the adrenaline pumping in his bloodstream, food was one of the last things on his mind at the particular moment.

An explosion brought him back to the reality he had unwillingly become a part of. He looked over to where the vehicle they had taken once was, assuming now that it had fallen over the edge of the drawbridge – the very same edge that they had almost gone over. Getting up, he popped his arm back into place and made sure it would still move like an arm should. Looking closer, there was a distinct tear in the shirt he wore near the bicep that revealed a tattoo; the Roman numeral of fifteen, by the looks of it. '_Great...more ID.'_ He thought with even more disgust.

It wasn't the first time that he had some form of identification stuck onto his flesh – as a matter of fact, he still had a bar code on the back of his neck, near the base of the collar thanks to the army. Although, ever since he figured out about the tinkering done on him who knows how long ago, it was most likely a by-product of the aforementioned experimentation. '_That reminds me…' _he rummaged through his pockets and procured a few folded pages: his personal experimentation records. If he could find a way back to his time (and Cyphus for that matter), he had the perfect blackmail for a trip back home, and maybe even a boost in paycheck…dishonorable: maybe; sneaky: definitely; but well worth the risk.

But first: how to get there.

Cloud started to climb down a rope he had situated and secured around one of the metal beams, heading down to what must've been the ground – real ground, not the pitiful excuse of a ceiling that surrounded the city – followed by Aeris and Barret. Red jumped from pile of junk to pile of junk, finally landing on solid earth. Tifa started for the rope, but stopped just before climbing down.

"So what about you?" she asked, and he scratched the back of his head in nervousness.

"Not sure…" he replied, which was true for the most part: he had no clue as to where to go for finding the answers he needed. The nervousness, however, perplexed him. She sat down near the edge of the concrete road, legs dangling over the edge. Cautiously, Rollin sat down on her left, still contemplating where to go – hard enough not knowing of any other cities.

"Well, come with us then. Besides," she looked over at him with those deep red-brown eyes, "we could use the help." He thought about it for a second, and nodded in agreement. He was certain that they knew more about the area than he did by a long shot. Standing up, she climbed down the rope, and he followed.

* * *

A/N – Reviews are always appreciated!

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	10. Those Who Fight

A/N – You guys know the drill: enjoy chapter nine!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7 or any characters from the original game.

_**Chapter 9**_

Two swords cut through the air, and tore through the wolf's flesh like hot knives through butter. Finishing the slicing motion that he had begun, Rollin turned around to face the rest of the pack; they outnumbered the small group of people, but what they lacked in numbers they made up for in strength. That didn't mean the ravenous beasts were going to let up at all, however. While putting away the sword in his left hand he took a quick glance in Cloud's direction – he had his hands full but was able to keep up with his enemies and Aeris' at the same time. One of the wolves leaped toward Rollin, causing him to sidestep it and counter with a quick swipe of his clawed hand; it was effective against the unprotected flesh, muscle, and bone (the same with glass, as he had discovered in Midgar). With another foe down, two more took its place, swiping their sharp claws at their somewhat human prey. He was able to block most of the attacks, the rest being merely glancing scrapes.

Of course, this wasn't the only encounter with these kinds of predators; as a matter of fact, they had been disposing of smaller packs of wolves ever since they left Midgar; however, this was much larger than the groups of three or four that normally attacked them…so far, they had taken care of ten out of the seemingly endless number of the animals that now assaulted them.

Not the best of situations, one might say.

Taking a look with the corner of his eye he spotted even more heading in their direction; he also saw that Tifa was having a bit of trouble.

'_Not good.' _He thought to himself and rushed towards her direction, only to be stopped short by yet another group of beasts. Finishing them off quickly with a series of slashes, he saw one of the wolves lunging at Tifa. Moving his hand out in front of him, he pointed at it and sent a bolt of lightning towards it, impacting on its side and forcing it in that direction.

Regrettably, he didn't really know how he did that; otherwise, he would have an easy and fast way to end this. '_I wonder…'_ he pondered whilst moving over to where Tifa knelt; if he could shoot one bolt of lightning, then what about ten? Twenty? Hundreds?

"You okay?" he asked, helping her stand up as he did so. She nodded, although she looked exhausted. Moving quickly to where Cloud was, and tried to grab a hold of his attention, "Start heading for that town…I've got an idea." He pointed to the quaint town to his right, and Cloud nodded his approval. Handing Tifa off to him, Rollin turned to face the entire pack of wolves; as he readied himself for what he would try, he contemplated whether he would fail or not.

'_No...I won't fail.' _The thought ran through his mind over and over, bringing up images of Marle, Cody, the rest of his family, and his friends – both old and new. The thought of not being able to protect what he had left now filled him with anger, and as he held his hands out in front of him, that anger fueled what came out as a torrent of lightning bolts, hitting every beast in front of him and burning their flesh to a crisp. The destruction finally died down and allowed Rollin to see what carnage he had caused; nothing in front of him was left alive for quite a ways – even the ground was scarred by the heat from the lightning. Feeling drained of all of his strength, he collapsed onto the ground and blacked out.

Slowly he opened his eyes a little bit, not fully aware of the sun's glare coming through the window or the sweat beading his forehead.

Rollin groaned, opening his eyes further to adjust to the light. Last he remembered, he was still lying face down on the ground at the mercy of any and every carnivorous beast known to mankind. Once his eyelids were completely open, he saw something completely different than the enormous span of grass; he was in a large room occupied by six beds, one of which were being used: his own. '_I must be at an inn…but how did I get here?' _he pondered, looking towards the door at the sound of footsteps. The door creaked open, and Aeris walked inside.

"Awake already?" she asked, walking over to check the bandages on his arm and chest. He shrugged, feeling the burn of straining his body too much and causing him to wince, "Don't push yourself too much…you were cut up pretty badly." He nodded slowly at this information

"How did I get here?" he asked her, getting a shrug in reply.

"You should ask Red about that. Until then," she finished up with replacing the last of the blood-stained bandages, "get some rest." Opening the door, she began to leave.

"Aeris?" Rollin called out somewhat weakly, and she turned around to face him, "About what you said at the Shin-Ra building, about being friends…" he exhaled, and continued, "I just wanted to say…thanks." She smiled brightly and calmly then left, closing the door behind her. Slowly, his eyes closed, and as if he had never had an ounce of actual sleep, slept.

* * *

A/N – Tell me what you think ladies and gents!

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	11. A Grim Fate Revisited part one

A/N – Okay, I'm doing something different this time; this'll be a two-parter, since my original idea was far too long for just one sitting. Here's chapter ten, part one!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7 or any characters from the original game...there, I said it.

_**Chapter 10 (part 1)**_

He woke up again (minus the cold sweat), greeted by the enveloping darkness of nighttime. Adjusting to the low levels of light almost too quickly to be normal, his eyes registered the same room at the inn he had been in previously. This, in itself, confirmed a new trait about him: he was officially paranoid about those scientists, and was expecting them to pop out at any moment.

'_I need to get out; get some fresh air.' _He concluded, pushing the covers of his bed off of him and, without the slightest of sounds, walked over to the door, opened it, and left. The quickness that he moved, let alone the lack of sound he caused, was becoming less of a shock to him now; however, he wasn't completely content with what had been done to him…not one bit. Once he was outside and in the crisp, cold weather's ever-so-chilling embrace, he began to relax little by little. He took a look at the town he was in: small, yet comfortable-looking houses surrounded him – though not as if to suffocate, but rather make one feel the slightest bit of security.

Close to his kind of town, but not exactly.

With his strained nerves finally taking some time off from the non-stop paranoia, he strolled through the quaint village, finding a boulder right outside the gates and sitting upon it. He looked up at the stars in the sky, specifically the one he remembered as his home according to the old star-maps. Thousands upon thousands of questions flowed through his mind in a somewhat ordered string of thoughts: Why was he stuck here on this rock? Is there a way to return to his own time? And if so, how? If that was even a possibility, then how would he get back to Cyphus? Most importantly, would he ever be able to see Megan again?

Snapping out of the train of thought, he heard footsteps from behind him; he turned his head to get a look, and saw Tifa.

"Can't sleep?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged if ever so slightly.

"Needed some fresh air." He replied, moving over to his left, and she sat down. He found his eyes partially glued onto his new guest, now that he had the chance to finally see another person he was probably going to be stuck with for most of the time – not like it was a bad thing, he sort of missed having actual friends…it just caused him to feel awkward.

"So, how did you do it?" she asked throwing him a glance, and he raised an eyebrow in confusion, "That lightning…that kind of spell could only come from evolved materia." She explained, and Rollin scratched the back of his scalp.

"Actually, I'm not too sure how I did that…" his voice fading off into thought, he began to wonder, '_How the hell was I able to do that?' _Shaking his head slowly, he continued, "I'm not sure that it was materia, either."

"You think that you'd be able to show me?" this question caught him a little off guard; the last time he had shown anyone his skill in fighting or anything, let alone a woman, was three years ago with…

'_Angie…'_ he stopped himself from going down that path: nothing good came from it, anyways. He nodded, pointed his right hand towards one of the trees and channeling his thoughts , watched it become encased in a pillar of ice both in his mind and with his own eyes (which were as wide as they could get). He noticed two sphere-shaped objects – one of which was green, the other blue – glowing in his upper arm; not on, not around, but in his arm. '_So that's what Hojo did to me.' _He tried to examine the pair of globes embedded in his arm, but they faded away, leaving the now slightly paler color of skin behind. Tifa walked over to him and held his arm up so she could observe this oddity.

"Hmm…I've never heard of materia inside someone's body." She mumbled in thought, and looked Rollin in the eyes, "What was the blue one?" Rollin puzzled over this briefly, before hearing a voice – familiar, but the name was on the tip of his tongue, so to speak – in his head:

'_**Turbo.'**_ It said, coercing him to say it in the process.

"Turbo." He replied, not entirely sure as to where the thought came from: it wasn't his own as far as he knew, and he knew he wasn't checked into the insane asylum recently. He wondered if Aeris would know anything about it. There was a long period of silence between the two, before Tifa finally spoke up.

"Where are you from?" she asked, a serious look on her face. Rollin shut his eyes in contemplation, unsure if he should tell the truth or make a sort of half-truth. Opening his eyes, he came to his decision.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." He warned her preemptively, but she kept her gaze locked on his. He exhaled in slight frustration hoping for some kind of time paradox to take effect, but nothing happened. "You're not going to give up that easily, are you?" he asked, and she shook her head slowly, intent on hearing what he had to say, "Well, this is going to sound very far-fetched, so don't say I never warned you." She shrugged her shoulders.

"It's been awhile since I've heard a good story." She stated, sitting back down and letting him begin. Slowly he sat down as well, preparing himself for the somewhat lengthy account straight from the history books.

* * *

A/N – Read and review please: any reviews are appreciated!

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	12. A Grim Fate Revisited part two

A/N – Not much to say, so here's chapter ten, part two!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7 or any characters from the original game...there, I said it.

_**Chapter 10 (part 2)**_

"It all started about a millennium in the future – the distant past for me, mind you – when a rebel group started wreaking havoc on this planet; no one knows who exactly they were or why they began all of this, but whatever they did they did with unheard expertise. All we do know for sure is that they were genetically enhanced, ex-militants, numbering around two hundred. The mayhem lasted for ten years before the ruling government got fed up with the complaints from various cities, and ran with their tails between their legs.

"Of course, they had to get rid of the potential threat somehow and thought that blanketing Gaia with nukes would do the trick, however overkill the idea was." Rollin told the woman to the best of his story-telling abilities, trying to keep it as factual as possible but finding it very difficult to do so without adding bias. Tifa furrowed her brow in thought.

"So, that's how humankind ends? In a mushroom cloud?" she asked in disbelief, and Rollin shook his head from side to side.

"No…it keeps getting better and better." He replied with a hint of sarcasm, "There was another planet that held human life; some people from Gaia found it by accident via a satellite before all of this: it crash-landed, started taking pictures, and sent them back to the surprise of everyone. By the time Gaia was thoroughly nuked, twelve ships docked on the newly populated Cyphus with the higher-ups from this planet, leaving billions behind to burn in a nuclear hellfire. Cyphus: my home.

"And those scum ended up running the show again. Sure, there was relative peace for about a millennium and a half, but almost as if their worst fears came true, the rebels came back…and in far greater numbers this time. That might not have been much of an emergency if we had a large enough and well trained army, but that wasn't possible without drafting most of my generation."

"That shouldn't have been a problem, right?" Tifa asked, and Rollin shook his head again in dismay.

"It was just called drafting…the truth of the matter was far from it: children as young as ten, most barely into their teens, were given guns without prior training and forced to kill people that were much older, stronger, and tactically advanced; most of them didn't survive. Then the leaders started to get more secretive, and that resulted in us: the Children's Militia, Section 13." He paused, remembering all of the squad member's faces, "There were eight of us: Michael, Drammer, Jack, Lloyd, Angela, Cody, Marle and myself; a squad of kids, two of which were…enhanced, so to speak, by mako."

"You mean like SOLDIER?" Tifa spoke. Rollin shrugged his shoulders.

"In a way, yes; however, the mako energy was purified and fused directly to our DNA." He procured some papers he had kept in his pocket for safekeeping, handing them over for her to see, "That's the only proof I have." Tifa skimmed through the documents, and handed them back.

"…You're not making this up, are you?" she queried, keeping Rollin's gaze locked on hers. Strangely enough, it was almost as if he couldn't move even if he tried to. Finally she sighed heavily, processing all of this information at once, "So let me get this straight: you're from the future, and here to warn us, right?" he let out a muffled chuckle.

"Actually, I got here by accident…kind of funny, now that I think about it." He closed his eyes, watching it happen all over again in his mind with a smirk on his face, slightly amused this time around, '_And all because my curiosity got the better of me.'_ He thought. His eyes opened automatically, feeling as if he had lost an extremely heavy burden attached to his back.

"I'm not sure what everyone else will think of you, but," she placed a hand on his shoulder, "I believe you."

"…Thanks." He said, standing up and walking towards the now welcome warmth of the inn.

* * *

A/N – Reviews are golden!

Until the next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	13. A Mild Case of Schizo?

A/N - Yeah, I know: it's been a LONG time since I've updated this story...or my profile...don't hurt me! (braces for more brick-throwing) I'm trying to find the rest of the files that I'm missing, and I have to play "fill-in-the-plot-holes" with my older stuff too.

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy 7...otherwise, I'd be livin' large! :P

_**Chapter 11**_

Another day came to a start, and the group was finishing up with restocking for the trip, though he wasn't sure as to where they would be going to next. Since his body made sure he wouldn't forget about the hundreds of other strains, aches, and pains he had sustained from the lightning blast he had caused, Rollin stayed at the inn and tried to get some rest. It was a mighty big stretch for him at the moment. Just when he was getting comfortable with the thought of sleeping, a voice spoke as if from the shadows, calling to him. It was faint, but he could definitely hear it. His eyes shot open, looking around to find the source, but to no avail.

'_Just try to ignore it.' _He goaded himself, closing his eyes again and rolling over in his bed. Yet again he heard that voice, but considerably louder this time: it was definitely a female voice, as compared to the more masculine tone of the one from earlier that night. He heard a door open and footsteps heading towards him; he could tell that whoever entered was trying to be as quiet as possible, but with his ears he was able to hear it clearly and amplified to a point.

'_**Wake up!' **_he heard the male voice yell in his head in apprehension, as if expecting an assassin or something of the sort. Rollin bolted straight up to a sitting position, eyes wide open. Not seeing any immediate threat, he groaned and brought his hands to his head in frustration at his newly developed situation.

"I really got to get these voices out of my head." He muttered, somewhat aware that the person that came in had taken a seat on the bed next to him.

"So, you can hear it too?" the woman asked. From the sound of it, Aeris was that person; oddly enough, Rollin had been able to pick up on people's voices rather quickly both in the past and present. He chuckled softly.

"I wish I didn't, but—" he stopped mid-sentence; '_Did she just say what I thought she said?' _he pondered, still not sure if he heard right, "Wait…so I'm not the only one hearing this?" moving his head back to being upright and no longer resting his forehead on his hands, he looked over at Aeris, who nodded. He scratched his head, "Then you know what it is?" again, she nodded.

"The Planet." She replied simply, leaving him even more confused until his memory brought up the conversation with Michael on the shuttle. The words flashed through his mind like lightning bolts.

'_The Cetra: a race that had a connection to the planet...not so much physically as it was telepathically.' _He concluded in his mind, _'If this is the case, then that must mean I'm…' _he stopped pondering about it and let his vocal cords do the work.

"Then that must mean that I'm a Cetra." He said, this time earning a shrug in response.

"Possibly." The whole idea wasn't making all that much sense to him, though; for one, everyone on Cyphus spoke of the Cetra as if they existed only in the ancient history of mankind (which could be seen as plausible, given when exactly he had shown up here on the time line), but he had learned of their existence on his home world, as well. And it was of no surprise that there had been a mix between the two races, but that would mean that his parents were…

'_Not likely; I don't remember hearing voices _that_ early on.'_ He silently pondered before temporarily abandoning the idea; he would have to read those research papers in-depth.

"If you're coming with us, then you might want something other than just those rags for clothes." She pointed out, causing him to look at what was left of his shirt which was adorned with burnt holes, claw marks, and various bullet holes – the bullet holes confused him slightly, of all things, as to how they got there; probably from their escape – before looking back at Aeris.

"I guess I would be easier to spot wearing these." He replied with a smirk. Standing up, he left the inn in order to complete the only task he was never good at, regardless of the military training he had been through: shopping.

This would be different.

* * *

"Watch where you're goin', kid!" the man yelled at the newly clothed Rollin Howell.

The whole ordeal of finding garments was finished, leaving him with clothes that not only offered some sort of protection from both the elements and anything that might deem him as edible (or any form of prey), but functionality in the way of concealing his guns and metal claw: in essence, a red trench coat, though the left sleeve was longer than the right (by accident, of all things), which suited him perfectly; along with regular pants and a shirt, he looked somewhat less like an ex-lab rat. Paying for them, however, wouldn't have been possible if it was not for everyone's help with pitching in the cash. And now, he must have bumped into this person during his silent contemplation. From the sound of his voice, he had already started off having a bad day and wasn't going to put up with anything that would make it any more detrimental.

"…Sorry." He replied simply, starting off for the inn again before being grabbed by the shoulder and spun around to face the gruff man. Did he break something by mistake? By this time, someone else decided to join the dispute; just as heavy as the other man, and probably one of his friends. Not really reacting to any of this new possible threat's acts of forced cooperation Rollin was pushed towards the other man, who stuck his foot out in an attempt to trip their new target of frustration; he let himself fall, but quickly caught himself before his face came in contact with the pavement. Pushing himself up with lightning speed he jabbed the man who had tripped him in the jaw with his right elbow, and spun around to face the other man; his right hand released it's respective pistol from its holster and pointed it at his attacker's face, squarely in between his widened eyes and in a motion that made it seem to be second nature.

Backing away with his arms held up defensively, the man ran off into one of the alleyways, leaving Rollin alone and surrounded by daily commuters – most shocked because of what happened, some awed by his adept "self-defense", all fearful of getting on his bad side. Letting out a small "humph", he holstered his gun and turned back towards his intended destination.

If that man had the idiocy to hold a grudge, then this would become very interesting very quickly.

* * *

A/N - yes, I will be posting two, _maybe_ three chapters for this one tonight...just to get the gears moving again. :)

Until next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


	14. Hojo's Breakthrough

A/N - Alright, here's update #2. Gotta make up for missing out on posting New Year's, after all. ;)

Disclaimer: Must I keep saying this? I don't own Final Fantasy 7...

_**Chapter 12**_

Yet again, he had proven that he was different from the rest, and yet again, he was shunned by everyone else in the camp. Normally, the drill sergeants would give those who went above and beyond a reward of some kind, but this was different; no one thought that he would be able to go up against one of the most elite of SOLDAT and actually come very close to victory, but he did.

Even more bizarre, he was merely eleven years old.

For the umpteenth time since he was drafted, Rollin realized that aside from Cody and Marle, his two other siblings that were brought here, he truly was alone. Walking down the dank alleyway provided by the many metallic supply depots built here, he toiled and wrestled with his own thoughts and new-found depression for dominance and control. Snapping out of his trance like movement through the darkness thanks to the shiver moving down his spine like lightning, he faintly heard the pulling of a pin and the clanking of metal on crudely paved road. He looked in the noise's direction and was greeted by a semi-blinding flash and shards of metal flying straight at him. Without time to react, the blast flung him back into one of the supply depots.

His consciousness slipped away from him momentarily, although he could still feel blood pouring out of his body at a slow rate. Eventually he regained consciousness and tried to open his eyes to survey the damage, but his eyelids would not budge. He tried again and again, but to no avail; it made him curious as to why his eyelids wouldn't move as they normally did. Cautiously, he moved his hands to his eyes and realized the grim truth:

There were pieces of shrapnel jammed into his eyes, effectively keeping his eyelids closed.

The pain finally settling in from his new handicap, Rollin screamed in agony. One of the soldiers on patrol heard this and came rushing to the scene, assessing the situation once he saw the grizzly sight.

"Holy hell, kid! What happened to you?" he asked, helping Rollin up from the ground. The boy tried to speak, but only a few muffled sobs came as his reply. The soldier shook his head in dismay, "Never mind the answer." He aided the younger one half walk, half drag himself into the open, and activated his comm. link, "HQ? Patrol here. I need a medic at my location immediately. I repeat: I need a medic over here!" Rollin began to fade back into unconsciousness again, and let the numbness coil around his mind freely.

He regained consciousness slowly, and used his hands to feel where exactly he was now: a tube, from the cramped feeling and the lack of space above him. Suddenly, it filled with a liquid; obviously, he was not able to tell what that fluid was at first, but once it reached his feet, he could feel the sting as if from thousands upon thousands of needles on every nerve on his body, slowly making its way upward. Rollin tried to hold his breath for as long as he could, but failed miserably as it entered and filled his lungs. Strangely enough he could still breathe, but the intensity of the stinging caused him to black out.

* * *

Again, he came back to the world of the living, unsure as to what happened to him. He brought his hands to his eyes, half expecting shards of metal to be embedded in his eyes still, and also half hoping that it was all a bad case of the nightmares; he felt no shrapnel, no cuts, gouges, or gashes, and nearly jumped out of where he lay in joy. Quickly opening his eyes, he was greeted not with normal sight, but rather with the same pitch-blackness of a closed eye. Fearing the worst, he felt where the orbs called his eyes should've been, only to be given the cold feeling of metal. Normally, he would have acted as if anyone else and cried and screamed until he couldn't speak anymore.

But, as he had proved time and time again, he wasn't normal.

"You seem to be taking this a hell of a lot better than most other people." He heard to his right; the same person that helped him get here, from the sound of things. Adjusting himself so he sat upright, he shook his head slowly.

"That's because I'm not like most other people." Rollin said, scornful of what he had become. He heard the soldier chuckle to himself, and walk over to him.

"Glad that I'm not alone." He replied. The boy tried to face in the right direction, and held his hand out in greeting.

"I'm Rollin." The other boy shook his hand with a grin on his face.

"Michael."

* * *

He awoke, though he kept his eyes shut in hopes of falling back into sleep, dreamless or not. He remembered the years that he had no eyesight, the constant and vigorous training he endured to be able to fight without the aid of his eyes, and the precious time spent on becoming accepted by some of the boot camp recruits; it was difficult, bearing in mind that he could fight better without his eyes than he could when he could still see, and also the fact that wearing a bandanna over his eyes (rather, where they should have been) made socializing considerably harder to do, although much easier than letting someone stare into two metallic orbs. Aside from that, it was also when he met Michael, Jack, and eventually Angela; probably the highlight of his time there: actually having friends.

The sound of footsteps broke his train of thought: not like anyone who stayed in this very room; in fact, he knew that only he was using this room, and the others in their ragtag group were fast asleep in their own beds (Red being stuck with the floor to deal with, of course). That information, coupled with the fact that only he had a key to this room, narrowed the possibilities to one: an impostor, maybe even an assassin. Inwardly, he grimaced.

That guy from before must have wanted to finish what he started.

The footsteps stopped at the left side of the bed he occupied, and he could hear a dagger being unsheathed. His mind visualized the rest of what was occurring, thanks to having the aforementioned 'lack-of-eyesight-training,' and he grabbed the man's arm that held the small blade inches above his throat, smirking as he did so.

"Did you really think that I was asleep?" Rollin questioned as he got up from the bed. The assassin tried to speak, but no words came; looking down at his arm, he noticed the green glow in the shape of an orb:_** 'Silence.'**_ That voice in his head informed him.

Moving as quickly as he could, the assailant backed up then lunged at him leading with the weapon in hand and Rollin grabbed his opponent's wrist, twisting it and using his other elbow to break the man's arm. The man dropped the dagger at the twist, and tried to scream when his arm was shattered at the elbow joint, though no sound came from his throat; this gave the much younger man a chance to attack, and he punctuated on the moment by punching him in the side of the ribs, cracking a few of them. The man's face knitted itself into a mask filled with both pain and fear as his intended target walked over to him and knelt down beside he had fallen over.

"Right about now, I would have smashed your skull into fragments if it weren't for the fact that you were hired." Rollin spoke quietly trying to avoid awakening his new friends, and an unnatural, vibrant red glow leaked into and started to take over the dull grey of his eyes. Picking the man up with both of his hands by the shirt and belt, he carried him over to the window, a mischievous grin growing on his face, "So, I've decided that the pavement can do that _for_ me." Opening the window, he threw the man out to fall two stories and onto the pavement with a loud smack.

Luckily, he shut the window before the man came in contact, thus dampening the sound to barely audible from inside. The red glow in his eyes had faded by this time as well, as if a different part of him had surfaced to do what he would of hesitated to do. Instantly fatigued after the adrenaline rush he had went through, he climbed back into bed and tried to sleep off the rest of the night.

* * *

A/N - Hmm...wonder how _that_ came about, huh? Well,

Until next chapter,

_**Lloyd Redgrave**_


End file.
